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Elizabeth sat in Ben Madison’s office staring at the calmly folded hands in her lap, totally belying the turmoil seething within. “How could this have happened Ben?” she spoke through barely moving lips. “I trusted you to protect the girls, how could they just disappear?”
“Now, Elizabeth, I know you are worried, but don’t lose hope.” Ben was sitting on the edge of his desk but moved into the chair at Elizabeth’s side, trying to give her as much comfort as he could with his presence.
“They will be found! I know it.” Ben nearly whispered. “I have always kept my promise to you and Karl; the girls would not be involved in dangerous situations if at all possible. The leads they were following are not like TV drama espionage, where everyone is a super spy and has to shoot their way out of trouble hour by hour. If anything, the only complaints I ever got from the girls is how boring it all is. The spy business is so much more attractive in the movies.”
In spite of her concerns, Elizabeth laughed. They had told her themselves, how unbelievably boring the spy business could be. “I know you have done what you can, Ben, but what’s the answer, where are they? Have you rechecked all of the cemeteries in the area?”
“Yes, we have. We don’t know for sure, but it seems they were close to finding the target when something happened. My theory is they got to the last cemetery too late and discovered the Iranian’s already dug up the body and took the Bible with them. The girls probably would have followed and tried to get it back. Which way they went is harder to say. We have no way of knowing where anyone went from there. Our Intel unit picked up some chatter suggesting a package, probably the Bible, was to be on a plane heading to Belize late the day the girls went missing. We have checked our sources from Las Vegas to the island, and no sign of the twins can be found anywhere. If they were following it, they did a bang-up job of staying undercover.”
“Yes, but what if they weren’t following it? What if something happened to them in the cemetery?”
“There was no sign of a struggle, no sign of their car, or anything to give us that kind of scenario. We didn’t rule it out. However, nothing has panned out in the area.”
Elizabeth continued to sit with her head down, trying to control her fears. “I admit I am worried. I keep thinking if they were injured and hauled out into the desert somewhere, out there in the heat, it could be days before we found them and by then it may be too late. They wouldn’t have water or shelter at night,” she shivered as the reality of what her loss would be overcame her. “Ben, please find them quickly.”
“We’re trying Elizabeth; you know we will do everything possible.”
Elizabeth stood up; her hands automatically smoothed the front of her jacket; she should leave Ben to do his work. She would head back to the hotel and wait. A fleeting thought struck her. “Ben, you said Matt Errington was in love with Kate, right?”
“Yes, I think he was, but months ago. But he is over in Wales with you and Franny; he couldn’t have anything to do with the girls being missing.”
“I know, but remember the time you were at the cottage, after Lauren’s death, how weird you said it felt to you. You said the cottage had an eerie, mystical feel to it. A ‘presence’ you called it.”
“Where is this going, Elizabeth?” Ben asked, shaking his head at her ramblings.
“Matt has been having nightmares for the past few nights, I heard him a couple of times mumbling about heat and fear, and he even mentioned he was suffocating once. What if the cottage is having some kind of effect on him as well? Tuning him into the girl’s ... or more precisely, into Kate’s location somehow. Isn’t it worth at least checking?”
“I don’t hold a lot of stock in the paranormal realm Elizabeth, and I’m not about to go off half-cocked chasing a nightmare, wasting valuable time and resources on a whim. If you were to tell all of this to Matt, for clarification’s sake, how are you going to explain Kate and his relationship? He doesn’t remember his name, his life ... or her. I’m not so sure it’s even a good idea to tell him what has been going on. You will need to have quite a conversation with him, and you don’t know if he will believe any of it or how he will relate it to his nightmares.”
“I know you have reservations about him Ben, but my instincts tell me he is just as solid as he appears. Learning more about him, I’m convinced his motive for going to Wales was to find me to help him find Kate. He still loves her, and I believe somehow his love transcends space and time and may give us the lead to find her and Lilly. I can’t and won’t wait for a better time to have an enlightening discussion with him if it means we can find the girls sooner. He deserves to know who he is and who Kate is, and there is just a chance he can help.”
“Alright Elizabeth, you do what you think is best for the girls, and if he can give you something more tangible to go on, we will check it out to the most minute detail. Okay?” Ben would have done anything to give her the reassurance she so desperately sought but chasing leads from a head injury patient was about as good a shot as letting Franny read his tea leaves for him again. The whole idea was stretching faith a bit far, in his opinion.
“I’ll call him as soon as I get back to the hotel,” Elizabeth promised, “and I’ll let you know exactly what he tells me.”
“Of course, I promise to check out any substantial leads he may have. But please, try not to give him more information than the situation deserves.” Elizabeth nodded. Ben watched her walk out of his office; her shoulders squared to the world. Always in control, he thought. Elizabeth was a special person, and he would do anything in the world to keep her respect and make her smile again. After his divorce years before, Ben believed his job would be enough to keep him company, but that resolve was truly tested every time he saw Elizabeth.
***
MATT WAS MOVING SLOWLY, not so much because of the injured leg, but because he couldn’t feel his feet at all. His body was still reeling from the latest twist of events. His name was Matt Errington, and he was being questioned by Interpol, and he had something to do with a lot of people dying. What a way to get my memory back, he thought as he headed toward the small upstairs room to gather what little possessions he had. He didn’t know if he should take the clothes Elizabeth lent to him or even how long he would be gone. Do I need to pack anything at all? How far is the trip to London? The thought occurred to him he didn’t want to go with the officers, even though his need to find his place in the world was a great incentive. Something was wrong with the whole thing. Maybe it was Franny’s dire prediction or his nightmares, but the little cottage was about the closest thing to a home he knew, and like leaving a sanctuary, the thought alarmed him to his core.
He wanted to turn around, head back downstairs to tell them he wasn’t up to the trip, but he was stopped short by the black framed mirror over the washstand in his room. A face, his face, stared back at him with a different look than just a few hours ago. It wasn’t the beard growing in thick and curly, or the eyes still bloodshot from lack of sleep the night before. The face was different because it had a name. He had a name. An identity. He belonged somewhere else, and the only way to get the answers he needed to go home was to face the unknown in London.
“All I need is a jumper, a mackintosh and a taste for warm beer,” he mumbled to himself. Surprised such a strange list of items should flash through his mind, he wondered about it but did not take the time to analyze what it meant. Mental note, find out if I like warm beer.
Franny’s voice on the phone was clear as a bell in spite of the distance from Elizabeth’s hotel. Franny didn’t like telephones and never would have used one except Lauren insisted on having one in the cottage for their safety, since they were so isolated out on the bluffs. Elizabeth noted immediately Franny sounded tired and asked her if she was well.
“I am well enough, don’t ye go worrying about me, tis been an eventful day, it has.”
“Well, you take care of yourself, and I want to hear how things are going there Franny, but before I do, please let me speak to our guest for a few minutes. It’s important.”
“I would do that thing, but ye cannot,” Franny answered haltingly.
“Why, is he asleep?”
“Our guest has left us with two fancy dressed gentlemen from London. They knew his name and where he was from. Told him he must go with them to London to talk to them, to answer many questions. I told him to go ... to remember why he was among us. He must remember.”
Fear crept into Elizabeth’s voice while it raced through her entire body. “What are you saying, Franny, who did he go with and why? When did this happen?”
Franny was tired; she wanted to lie down and ease her old rheumy pains. “If ye want to talk to the young man, the gentlemen were taking him to Swansea. They wanted to catch the last flight going to London tonight. I would think ye kin ask him yeself all ye wish to know if ye will make a call there.”
***
THE PLANE WOULDN’T leave for another half hour, and Matt found himself anxiously staring out of the window trying to catch a glimpse of the world beyond Swansea. His nerves were badly frazzled, and he could barely sit still as he was forced to sit between the two agents in front of the telly. Standing on the precipice of getting his life back was making his head hurt again. If he kept his mind loose and didn’t concentrate on anything, he could head off the pain threatening to bulge out of his eyes. What a great life I’m in for, he briefly decided. When I try to use my head, it explodes like fireworks. The agents told him little and would not or could not divulge the reason to necessitate his trip to London. Somehow Franny knew I needed to go, so here I am. Mental note: Pick up something nice for her and Elizabeth when I finally get wherever it is I’m going since I’m assuming I’m never coming back here again.
***
AS SHE ROCKED IN THE old bent chair by the fireplace with the dog on her lap, Franny slowly stirred her tea and watched the leaves swirl around the bottom. “Our young man is beginning the end of his journey, Beastie. I hope he truly has a good heart, but I fear he will not be much help to his young love. And aye, tis a sad affair for the babes, and them being sich nice young lasses too. But, I’m just an old womin, what is it you would have me do? I kinna help them.” Tilting her old head sideways, the frizzled grey hair dusted the rim of her cup. As she watched, the companion chair by her side kept pace with hers, back and forth, pushed by unseen feet upon the worn braided rug at its base. “Ahh,” Franny murmured at length, reassured by some inner resolution, “that is good Laury, let them be heard.”